


Pau Hana

by esteefee



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 21:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surf therapy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pau Hana

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dogeared](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogeared/gifts).



> a birthday present for our wonderful [](http://dogeared.livejournal.com/profile)[**dogeared**](http://dogeared.livejournal.com/). You are a brightly shining girl! Much love, babe.
> 
> Originally posted on [kissemdanno](http://kissemdanno.livejournal.com).

  
It seems like it's been forever since Steve's had a day like this: nothing but sand and sun, and the waves rising up, lifting his board beneath his feet and sometimes crashing him under to rag doll him, beating him down so he has to use the tug of his leash to know which way is up. On the next wave he catches he carves back, accelerating to do an aerial, hearing a whoop from the shore that makes him grin, but then he slips and eats it and goes under again, nose full of salt, and interrupts himself to go in and wash it back with a sweet-tasting brew, Danny's hand warm and dry when he passes it over with a smirking grin and a few choice comments about Steve's pathetic machismo.

Then Steve goes back out again, and it's a good day, a great day, and he doesn't care if he's aching, because it was epic, and it was _Danny_ who'd brought him out here, Danny had insisted, looking a little shifty, saying, _"You think I want my guy-thing being made mock of for his pathetic state of—of—what? I'm sure there's a Hawaiian word for lack of surfing mojo."_ Steve staggers over to him and plants his board before crashing down on the part of the towel that isn't being shaded by the gigantic umbrella Danny insisted on bringing.

And maybe Steve knows he has the stupidest smile on his face, but he doesn't give a good goddamn. He feels amazing, body overtaxed but with the fantastic, sun-baked looseness of a day spent floating in the giving ocean.

"Good day, huh?" Danny's sandy foot brushes against his.

Steve just smiles and smiles. "Ho, brah, ono fucking waves. The best." He pauses. "Needed that."

"Yeah. This is all right," Danny says, totally grudgingly, and Steve grins and rolls over, sand shifting to cup his elbow under the towel, and kisses him, beer and salt and the slip of Danny's tongue, a warm, giving tangle that makes Steve groan a little. Especially when Danny rubs his hand against the front of Steve's wet shorts.

"You've been like this the whole time, you dog; don't think I didn't notice," Danny says, gripping him.

"'S called harpooning," Steve admits. "Surfer thing."

Danny snorts. "Oh, _any_ excuse."

"Like I need one with you around," Steve says, a little breathless. Maybe he grabs Danny a little hard then, kisses him a little harder, sighing when Danny gives under his hands, because Danny just _knows_ ; when Steve pulls back, he can see it in his eyes.

Steve doesn't have to explain himself to Danny. That's why every day is the best day of all.

So Steve kisses him again, tasting his smile, and Wo Fat and family mysteries and everything else are a thousand miles away, washed out by sun and sand and the blue-green of Danny's eyes, clear as ocean.

  
_End_   



End file.
